


Sometimes You're a Mistake and Others You're Just Taking

by firelord65



Series: Tales from the Pit [12]
Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Angst, Gen, Past Relationship(s), shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27518650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/firelord65
Summary: After Eric is captured - before he's held accountable for his actions - Tris confronts him.
Series: Tales from the Pit [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011174





	Sometimes You're a Mistake and Others You're Just Taking

“What made you so damn special that you got handed the position of Leader?” My tone comes out biting and sharp.

Eric snarls and slams his fist on the bench he’s seated on. “I wasn’t _handed_ anything,” he retorts.

“I heard Four’s testimony today.” There is blood in the air and iron on my tongue. _This wasn’t how it was supposed to be._ I don’t bother to wait for his excuse.

“You reported Amar and him for being Divergent, didn’t you? Even back then you were just Jeanine’s lapdog, a slave to their ideals on purity and _compliance,_ ” I say. My voice has risen to practically a shout. It’s easier to be like this, inflamed with fury and malice. It burns at the weak, tender part of me that had opened up and dared to care for the man bound in chains in front of me.

Eric tries to stand up, but the bindings around his ankles keep him from coming close to me. For once, I have the power. I can just walk away. “Tris, that was two years ago,” he pleads.

“And? Is that supposed to make it alright? You still reaped the rewards for your actions and sure as hell sank easily into the rank and file. I bet you helped plan the attack on Abnegation,” I hiss. “I bet you enjoyed it, seeing us storm down the selfless.”

He can’t step any closer, but that doesn’t stop him from leaning in close to my face. “I believed in something that was bigger than me and it made sense,” Eric says. “For a time, I had an identity and power. I spent months and years in Erudite hearing how people like me would change the city _for the better_. People who looked for monsters like you.”

I pull myself as tall as I can be next to his craned posture. “You would love for me to be a monster like you, wouldn’t you?” It’s a bitter, low blow.

“My _dear_ ,” he spits, “it would have changed the world if you were like me. But you weren’t. You were a spitfire girl who wanted to blend in and do the same thing that I did.” I laugh at that. There is no joy in this tiny, tight room we are crammed in. It’s just too ridiculous that I would want what he did.

He struggles against the manacles and they cut red, angry creases into his wrist as he reaches out. Eric’s finger jabs against my collarbone once, twice, before returning to his waistline. “We both wanted to get rid of the weed that was strangling this city and dragging it into ruin. I was just fighting the wrong enemy,” Eric insists.

“You don’t say,” I drawl. My mouth stays in a snarl, teeth bared.

“I was _wrong_. And I hated it. I resented it for weeks as I got reports of your sim times, of how well you worked with the rest of the faction. I held my tongue and didn’t report you. Did you know that? I could have had you tested on the first day of phase two but I _didn’t_. I did nothing for so long. Fuck, I resented the fact that I couldn’t hate you, Tris. You did everything right, and when it came time for the final push on Abnegations, all that I could do was double down on doing what I had been told was right.”

I hate the way that his voice broke when he said my name. How his damn proud face crumbled to abject shame.

I hate how the flames inside of me leap for joy to see it. I could close this fissure erupting between us with a few words. But people had died. Will’s stunned face pours gasoline on the fire in my heart. My mother’s dying breaths fan the flames sky high.

I step away from him and rap on the door behind me. “You didn’t do nothing, Eric,” I whisper. “You took my heart into your hands, told me you cared, and then crushed it under your boot.”

The door opens and a wide-eyed Candor girl eyes Eric cautiously. I know that if I look back he will be angry and ready to lash out again. It’s what I would expect from someone whose default is to fall back on hatred and malice.

I can’t stand to see him cradling his head in his hands instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Previously a part of the "Tales from the Pit" compilation fic on my profile. Moving all of these to their own pieces in a series instead so they can be more accurately tagged on their own.


End file.
